


The Next Page

by cnell



Series: Turning Page Productions [11]
Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cnell/pseuds/cnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lizzie's digital media company hits a winning streak, bringing her to a crucial decision about her future with Darcy. The final installment of the "Turning Page Productions" series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many many many thanks to [lulabo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lulabo/pseuds/lulabo) for her feedback.

June 2016

 

_Dear Mom and Dad and Jane and Lydia and Charlotte and Bing and Caroline and Gigi and Fitz and Mary:_

_Hi!_

_It's been quite a week, to say the least. I know you guys have a lot of questions and I promise you'll get all the details soon, but I'm keeping my phone turned off for now. You can imagine why._

_Sorry about all the reporters, by the way. Just hang up on them._

_So, first things first..._


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh man, there's like a zillion of them.” Lizzie eased the scratchy blue curtain a centimeter to the left and squinted across the stage to a dark, packed lecture hall. She balanced her iPhone in her other hand as she tugged at her pencil skirt and green silk blouse. “Any advice on handling these situations? Imagine the audience in their underwear or something?”

“I wouldn't recommend it,” Darcy replied. His wry voice in her earbuds, blocking out some of the noise from the crowd, almost let her pretend she was safe in his office instead of stuck at a digital media conference in Los Angeles. “I tried it once and found it unbearably distracting.”

“Uh-huh. Was I a member of this particular audience?”

“How did you guess.”

“Just a hunch.” Lizzie let go of the curtain and took a breath. Her fellow panelists were comfortingly familiar, at least. In the shadows near the stage entrance, Dr. Gardiner chatted with the moderater, her thumb brushing pensively against the handle of her cane. Her short hair was grayer and her brown skin more lined around the eyes than when Lizzie began her thesis project years ago, but she still radiated determined energy and intelligence.

Several paces away was the one middle-aged male executive who made it onto this year's panel, and then Lydia and Gigi in bright tops and designer jeans, their heads nearly touching as they laughed at something on Lydia's phone. Lydia caught her sister's eye and playfully snapped a picture of her. Gigi grinned and waved.

Lizzie wrinkled her nose at them. “I have to go in a minute, it looks like we're about to head out there. Did you get the care package I sent you?”

“I did,” Darcy sighed, “thank you. Lizzie...”

“I know you're on more of a health thing than usual these days, but you can make an exception for brownies. I just thought it would help you unwind a bit. You know how much your workaholic tendencies worry me.”

“Yes. It was very thoughtful. Just like the microbrew-of-the-month club to which you subscribed me last week, and the new cycling equipment you gave me the week before that.”

“Um...” She fidgeted with her collar.

“Lizzie,” Darcy insisted gently. “It is not necessary to send me gifts every time I receive less-than-flattering press coverage.”

She slumped, wrinkling her forehead. “I know, I know, but I just had to. That _Wired_ reporter was over-the-top mean about the whole thing. I feel terrible.”

Pointed silence at the end of the line. “Okay,” she backpedalled, “I kind of maybe got a bit of a rush out of the 'Lizzie Bennet is the next rock star of digital media' part. And emailed it to all my friends. And posted it on Twitter. But it's _so mean!”_

“It's fine.” A smile crept into his voice, but he still sounded tired. “You deserve the praise, and I have weathered much worse. I am only sorry I could not be there today.”

“Me too.” Dr. Gardiner was waving her over. Lizzie smoothed her hair and made her way toward the rest of the group. “And I'm sorry I had to cancel on dinner again. We'll have a proper weekend off soon, I promise.”

“Well, I look forward to it.” He exhaled, bracing himself for the rest of his afternoon. “I should let you go. Good luck.”

Lizzie had just enough time to wrap up her earbuds while the moderater finished her introduction, and then they were filing onto the stage to a startling burst of applause. Judging from the number of young voices she could hear from beyond the stage lights, a fair number of her and Lydia's viewers were in the audience – an interesting demographic for an industry event like this one. Despite her nervousness, a jolt of excitement went through her.

The panel had a lot of ground to cover, much of it centered around Lizzie herself. Turning Page Productions was in the middle of what was shaping up to be a banner year. Three months ago their video series on Medicins Sans Frontieres' Cambodia campaign had launched, drawing praise from a number of mainstream reporters and wild enthusiasm from Lizzie's fanbase – not least because Bing Lee was one of the featured volunteers. The story of his long-distance engagement with Jane Bennet, contrasted with the story of a newly-married Cambodian couple, managed to captivate her viewers without overshadowing the cause.

When the series finished in April, Lizzie barely had time to catch her breath before diving into her biggest project yet: the interactive literary festival in St. Louis.

“It freaked us out, I'm not gonna lie,” she said, drawing a sympathetic laugh. “We had to work around the festival's usual lineup of panels and meetups, get our literary vloggers in touch with the featured authors, _and_ incorporate online participation and real-time digital storytelling events – all while keeping the publishers and retailers from panicking. I don't think any of us got more than three hours of sleep a night that whole month.”

As she spoke, Lizzie shot a quick, sheepish glance at Gigi, poised and smiling two chairs to her left. Everyone in the lecture hall knew that Pemberley Digital fought hard to use Domino for the festival, only to lose the contract to Lizzie's three-year-old company. Gigi had been brought back part-time to handle press appearances for Pemberley, in the hopes that her charm and her funny Sanditon stories would help the company's bruised reputation.

Judging from the Q&A session at the end of the panel, the results were mixed.

“Does this mean Pemberley is giving up on Domino as a creative tool?” a woman asked.

“No, not at all,” Gigi replied, a bit too brightly. “Pemberley's development team is the best in the business. I'd say their innovations with Domino are just getting started.”

“My question is for Lizzie,” the next person said. Shading her eyes, she could barely make out his silhouette in the middle of the crowd. “What's the next big step for your company? Any important plans we should know about?”

“Oh wow,” she laughed, “I'm still busy catching up after the last two projects!” It was getting easier, this trick of playing to the audience while dodging the question. “I have some ideas I'm playing around with. I'd love to keep our online community growing and engaging with literature in different ways. We'll see what happens.”

“Lydia,” a woman asked, “you've worked with your sister a couple of times now. Do you think you might sign a contract with Turning Page someday?”

“Ha, she should be so lucky.” Lydia leaned over to grin impishly at Lizzie, her bright red hair catching the stage lights. “I dunno. I mean, it's an awesome company, but I'm kind of liking the independent thing right now. I get to work with a lot of cool people. Anyway, I don't know if she could afford me.”

“The FroYo budget alone would drive me out of business,” Lizzie deadpanned.

The session finished in a blur, six minutes over time, and the panelists and audience spilled out of the lecture hall for a cocktail reception in the lounge area next door. Lizzie, Lydia and Gigi stayed close, dodging industry reporters, as they grabbed hors d'oevres and wine and made their way back to Dr. Gardiner's corner.

“An interesting and varied discussion, as always,” the older woman laughed. Her dark eyes sparkled with amusement and no small amount of pride as Lizzie sidled up to her.

“God, I thought that last guy would never shut up,” Lydia muttered into her wine glass. “Like, he didn't even have a question, he just wanted to lecture everybody.”

Gigi made a face. “Yeah. There's always someone.”

“I'm glad the three of you could make it,” Dr. Gardiner said. “It was a refreshing change of pace.” She laid a firm hand on Lizzie's shoulder. “Congratulations on your success, truly. I'd better book you to talk to my interactive media students before your price gets too high.”

“Don't be silly,” Lizzie said. She was blushing, self-conscious, like she'd always been when her favorite role model paid her any kind of attention. “I'd love to visit your class. I mean, it would be freaking weird, but I'd love to.”

“Excellent.” Dr. Gardiner's smile widened as she glanced across the room. “For now I'll leave you to your crowd of suitors.” She thumped her cane lightly against the floor, preparing to swing into step.

Lizzie blinked. “My suitors?”

“What, did you think the co-founder of Hulu was here to listen to me?” The professor turned back just long enough to give her a knowing look. “Your company has become quite a prize, Lizzie Bennet. I've heard there's a running bet on which media empire manages to partner with you.”

There was no time to think of a response. A moment later, Caroline Lee came weaving through the crowd in her spike heels and blue Dior dress, her hands full of business cards. She wiggled her fingers at Gigi before zeroing in on Lizzie. “There you are!” she said, and tried to pull her away by the arm. “Everything is going perfectly. Turning Page Productions is all anyone can talk about. Come on – I have no less than eight CEOs to introduce you to.”

“Whoa, hang on a second.” Lizzie pulled back, casting around for an excuse; but Dr. Gardiner was long gone, Gigi had important mingling to do and Lydia was busy pretending Caroline was invisible. Then she noticed a group of teenagers lingering several yards away and gave them a relieved smile. “I need to say hi to my viewers first. They've been waiting for ages.”

Caroline glanced coolly at the group. A couple of them scowled back and muttered under their breaths. “Very well,” she said, “if you must. Keep it short, you have some very important people waiting. Trust me, Lizzie, countless entrepreneurs would kill to be in your position.” She pivoted on her heel and walked away, long hair swinging.

“Wow,” Lydia said drily, “I’ve never seen her so happy.”

“I know,” Lizzie replied. “Terrifying, isn’t it?”

 

* * *

 

Lizzie adored Gigi. She did. There were just times – during an evening flight to San Francisco at the end of a hectic weekend, for instance – when she could maybe not talk so much.

“God, I thought we'd never get out of there,” Gigi sighed. She wriggled to get comfortable in her seat, pulling her shoulder-length dark hair into a ponytail. “I swear, if I had to sit through another networking event I would have flipped out. Like, there's a limit to how many crappy jokes I can fake-laugh at, you know?”

“Mm-hm.” Lizzie stared out the window and tried to fend off the headache that was gathering behind her left eye.

“William texted to say he's sorry, again, that he couldn't meet us at the airport. Apparently Aunt Catherine 'needs talking down,' whatever that means. Ugh, I bet she'll be in a bad mood all week. Some visit home this is going to be.”

“You're in town for the entire week?” Lizzie glanced at her, curious in spite of herself.

“Yeah, everyone is kind of swamped at the moment, so they need me on call.” Gigi offered a cheerful smile. “Don't worry, we'll have plenty of time to catch up. What are you doing for lunch tomorrow? I've been having serious cravings for dutch pancakes from that place in Ocean Beach.” She gave Lizzie's hand a quick, impulsive squeeze. “Remember that time we had brunch there with William last summer? That was such a great day.”

Lizzie made some noncommital answer and waited for the flight attendant to come by with the drinks cart before trying again. “Sounds like there's a lot going on at Pemberley right now.”

Gigi shrugged. “Lots of big secret meetings. William isn't telling me much – you know him.” Then she turned to face her, eager and serious all at once. “But I'm sure he's got some great ideas. He always does. I wouldn't give up on Pemberley just yet.”

Puzzled, Lizzie smiled back. “I wasn't planning to.”


	3. Chapter 3

“If anything, you're generating too much interest,” Caroline remarked Monday evening. She paced slowly across Lizzie's office, binder in hand, eliminating names from a list with quick strokes of her pen. “You would not believe the number of absurd pitches I've had to turn down.”

Lizzie had given up tracking Caroline's movements more than an hour ago. Outside it was getting dark, the sky fading over Telegraph Hill, and everyone else had gone home to have family meals and watch movies and all the other things normal people did. She slouched at her desk with her chin propped in her hand, poking the remains of a kale and quinoa salad with a plastic fork.

That utterly depressing meal choice was really Darcy's fault, she thought. His health kicks had an irritating way of influencing her diet as well as his. She should call him in a minute. He was working late too, probably drinking too much coffee and forgetting to eat altogether.

“Our old friend Pierce even tried to contact me. I mean, the absolute nerve. I'm going to hunt down and murder whoever gave him my email address. Perhaps I'll hire ninjas. Lizzie, are you listening?”

“What? Yes!” Lizzie jumped upright. Caroline was eyeing her, hand on her hip, like she knew exactly what Lizzie was thinking and found it incredibly boring. “Um, yes, sorry. Totally listening. Any good proposals yet?”

Caroline cleared her throat and flipped to the next page in her binder. She was building up to something, taking her time. “There are a few potential options. Emma Woodhouse from Highbury Partners is dying for you to make a documentary series about her matchmaking business. Oh, and State Senator James Elton won't stop calling me. He wants to talk to you about web advertising for his latest run for Congress.”

She pursed her lips and tapped her pen against her chin. “I suppose it couldn't hurt to be seen with him. I'll set up an appointment – but between you and me, I think we can do far better.” Then she paused and smiled.

“Oh really?” Lizzie asked dutifully. “Like what?”

Caroline removed a thick folder from her binder, placed it on the desk and stood there beaming with triumph. Startled, Lizzie pushed away her salad and stared at the matte cover embossed with a sleek logo in red and black letters. “Juno Interactive?”

“Only one of the most high profile companies in digital media. They're known around the world for their efforts to replace the television network model with interactive online content.”

“I know, I've heard of them.” She paged slowly through the company brochure, rubbing the thick expensive paper between her fingers. “They're one of Pemberley Digital's main competitors.”

“Exactly.”

She raised her eyebrows, but let the moment pass. “And what makes you think they'd want to hire us?”

Caroline leaned forward with her fingers splayed on the desk, her eyes shining. “They want to acquire us, Lizzie.”

Lizzie dropped the folder like it had burned her fingers. “ _What?_ Are you serious?”

“Of course I'm serious!” Caroline was downright gleeful, in fact, bouncing on her toes like a kid at Christmas. “I've been networking with them for months, and they're finally ready to make a move. Their representative is asking to fly all the way from New York to meet with you in person.”

“When?” It was the only rational response she could think of.

“She could be here as early as Wednesday.”

“Wow.” Sitting back heavily, Lizzie closed her eyes and contemplated the hours of extra work and the mind-boggling future that suddenly lay ahead of her. “Holy shit.”

 

* * *

 

 It was well past midnight by the time she got back to Pacific Heights. The apartment felt silent and immense and she found herself tiptoeing, holding her breath as she came inside and dropped her satchel on a chair. The usual note and small plate of leftovers were waiting for her on the counter. She remembered to put the plate in the refrigerator and switch off the lights before making her way to the bedroom, trailing her fingers along the walls in the dark.

Darcy was in bed, lying on his stomach with his face buried in the pillow. The sight of him was like a weight pulling at her limbs, dragging her down. Lizzie kicked off her shoes, collapsed beside him on top of the covers and fitted her arm along his back. “We've got to stop meeting like this.”

He stirred, sighed. “I thought you'd call.”

“Sorry.” She bunched her fingers in the thin cotton of his shirt and pressed her forehead against his neck. It felt like months since she'd done more than speak to him through a screen. “Something came up.”

His hand found hers. “Lizzie, is there anything...?”

“Not now.” She drew in a breath and sat up, rubbing her eyes. “It's late. Go back to sleep.”


	4. Chapter 4

Juno Interactive's representative was a petite, energetic woman named Olivia. She had arrived at exactly 11:45 Wednesday morning, her infectuous laugh filling the office, and whisked Lizzie and Caroline off to lunch at the most expensive seafood restaurant along the Marina. Everything about her was practiced and precise, from her turns of phrase to the coordinated colors of her dress and nail polish and the curls of her short dark hair.

Caroline was madly in love with her.

“Isn't it just fabulous?” she said, beaming. She leaned in and lowered her voice, her fingertips on Olivia's sleeve. “I have some very reliable sources who tell me the Pemberley team were banking their entire reputation on landing that contract.”

Olivia laughed and speared a forkful of aragula. “And then you – Lizzie Bennet from Nowhere, California – just waltzed in and stole it right out from under them. God, I love it. We should make a miniseries out of it.”

Lizzie, dressed in her most expensive suit, had been staring at them and holding her coffee suspended in mid-air for the last five minutes. Now she set the cup down and shook her head clear. “That's not quite the way I would put it...”

“Embrace it, Lizzie,” Caroline declared. “We're taking this business to a whole new level.”

Her confidence aggravated Lizzie in a way she couldn't put her finger on. “I'm sorry, can we get to the point here? What are you offering me, Olivia?”

Olivia nodded approvingly and leaned her arms on the table, fingers laced together. “I'm offering you the chance to reshape digital media,” she said. “Juno is well on its way to cornering the online video market, as I'm sure you're aware. More than half the major networks are begging us to bring their content up to speed, and we've had nothing but rave reviews so far. What we need now is to transplant YouTube audiences to a monetized platform.”

Her eyes crinkled, like she and Lizzie were old friends sharing a secret. “That's why I was so eager to talk to you. You're the ideal person to work with online communities and advise us on how to win them over. Join us in Manhattan and you'll be influencing some of the top players in the industry.”

Lizzie glanced through the restaurant's French doors at the pale clouds over the Bay, and took a steadying breath. “I'm not leaving San Francisco,” she said.

Caroline cleared her throat, her eyes flicking upward. Olivia only smiled. “We certainly understand, Lizzie. And having a greater presence on the West Coast would be highly beneficial for us. We could keep you based here and fly you out for extended trips when necessary – New York, Chicago, even London.”

“London?” Enticing images of the city flashed through Lizzie's head before she could stop them. She twisted a corner of her napkin in her lap, winding the linen around her fingers. “Well, that would … certainly be something.”

Olivia watched her expression and looked pleased. “I appreciate that this is a big step for you,” she said. “Why don't you come to New York for the weekend? All expenses paid, of course. You can visit our offices, meet some of the people on our team and take a look at the projects we're working on. And I'm sure you could use some quality time with your sister and her fiance, as busy as you've been the last few months.”

Lizzie's resolve was slipping. The woman had done her homework. “You're right,” she admitted, “I could.”

“Then it's settled,” Caroline jumped in. “I'll just tell your assistant to clear your schedule for the weekend.”

Olivia smiled. “Wonderful. I'll be right back, I need to make a few calls. I can tell you now, our CEO will be thrilled to finally meet you.” She slid smoothly from her chair and walked toward the exit, tapping at her phone.

Caroline's brow immediately tightened with impatience. “A little show of enthusiasm for this amazing business opportunity wouldn't kill you, you know.”

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure how I feel about this.” Lizzie reached for her coffee again, drooping a bit in her chair. She couldn't remember the last time a lunch meeting was so mentally exhausting. “I've put so much time and effort into building up my company on my own...”

“On your own? Really?”

“With your help,” Lizzie replied hastily. “A lot of help. From everyone. That's the point – I have a great team and I feel good about what we're doing. I don't want some huge corporation interfering with that.”

“Yes,” Caroline said with a sharp laugh, “I'm sure your employees will be very grateful when Turning Page Productions eventually goes under because it can no longer compete.” Lizzie glared at her, but she didn't back down. “It's the way of the industry, Lizzie. If the major companies can't partner with you, they will try to drive you out. Including Pemberley.”

“William wouldn't do that,” Lizzie replied without hesitation.

Caroline tilted her head in a slight shrug. “That is irritatingly true. His board of directors might have a few strong opinions on the matter, however.”

Lizzie thought of the string of secret meetings going on at Pemberley and fell silent. Caroline regarded her a moment, then sighed and sat back. “Look,” she said, in a tone that was as close as she came to sympathetic. “I realize that you and Darcy are … _just_ so charming together, but that does not mean you are obligated to put his professional interests ahead of yours. You are talented and ambitious and you can take your career in any direction you want. Don't let sentimentality get in the way.”

Olivia was walking back across the dining room, a winning smile on her face. Lizzie straightened her spine and gave Caroline a stern look. “This discussion isn't over.”


	5. Chapter 5

Lizzie had always planned to talk to him. They were long overdue for a face-to-face conversation and it nagged at her, some corner of her mind forever searching for a moment when neither of them were too busy or distracted or tired. And if her life ever went according to plan, she would have gone to the Pemberley Digital offices right after her lunch with Olivia, pulled him away for a walk in the art gallery and explained everything to him.

But her attempt to call ahead from the restaurant only put her through to Ms. Reynolds, who told her Mr. Darcy would be locked away in a board meeting for at least the next three hours and could she please try back later; and before Lizzie could pin down a time, Caroline was hurrying her back to their car and ordering the driver to take them back to Turning Page Productions so they could rearrange her schedule, book a flight to New York and get ready for negotiations with Juno Interactive's upper management.

It was late in the evening, once again, by the time she switched off the lights and locked up the office, still squinting at her phone. She finished a quick email to Jane about her travel plans, then checked her messages. Darcy had called to tell her he wouldn't be home that evening. A last minute conference call, he said, and then stacks of unexpected paperwork that had to be completed before another appointment the next day. He had eaten dinner and sent for a change of clothes, and promised to catch a few hours of sleep on the couch in his office. “I will see you tomorrow,” he'd said, hesitated a long moment and hung up.

In the end, Lizzie didn't have to explain anything at all.

Back at work the next afternoon, she was camped out in her conference room, her hair tied back and her thin blouse open at the collar, leaning over a dozen notes and email print-outs spread across the table. She rearranged the pages and wrote in the margins while her assistant followed her with an iPad, translating her scrawls into neat items in her calendar. Not the most environmentally-friendly way of getting organized, but working with pen and paper made her feel more in control of things. 

She was scooping everything into stacks and musing over how Darcy-like this habit was when she heard his familiar knock on the glass wall of the conference room. “Excuse me, Lizzie.”

“Hey!” Startled and feeling oddly guilty, she turned around and made a move to hug him. Then she hesitated and stood still. He wore a dark suit and tie and a crisply-pressed shirt, and he held a leather folio in front of him. 

“Forgive the intrusion,” he continued, “but I have an important matter to discuss with you.”

Lizzie cleared her throat and handed her notes to her assistant, who was standing wide-eyed and awkward several feet away. “Could you take these back to my office, please? I'll be there in a few minutes.”

The younger woman nodded and hurried out of the room. Darcy stepped courteously aside, then slid the door closed behind her.

It felt easier with just the two of them in the room. She sat down, waving him to a chair. “I wasn't expecting you.”

“Not the best-laid of plans, I'll admit, but time was not on my side.” Darcy took a seat a careful distance away, his back straighter than usual. He spent a moment aligning the folio with the edge of the table before facing her. “You need to know that Pemberley Digital will undergo a major restructuring in the next twelve months. Because of you.”

She stared at him. “Me.”

He glanced away and nodded toward the eager hum of her employees' voices outside: another lively brainstorming session for new channels to launch, new audiences to reach. “The recent news articles have been accurate,” he said. “We were caught completely off guard by your impressive advances in the last year. The company had strayed off course, and it took your ingenuity to make us realize how serious the situation was.”

There was more to the speech than that, words he had clearly been rehearsing for much of the day, but all at once they seemed to fail him. A faltering moment passed, and then he exhaled, opened the folio and removed a white folder marked with the blue Pemberley Digital logo.

Lizzie's heart was pounding. “William...”

“Lizzie, I'm– We are asking you to be our Chief Content Officer.”

She was stunned into silence. “You would be the highest ranking creative professional at Pemberley,” Darcy pressed forward, “in charge of our entire online content strategy. Your brand and team of employees would remain under your control, and we would supply you with funding and state-of-the-art equipment.”

His earnest, nervous expression pulled a breathless laugh out of her. She leaned her elbow on the table and cradled her forehead in her hand. “Oh, wow. Déjà vu.”

“Yes,” he admitted, “I made you a similar offer years ago; and I like to think my instincts were sound, however absurd it may have been at the time.” He dropped his gaze to the folder in his hands. “I know you don't need us – or anyone. But I simply can't imagine a better future for Pemberley than to follow your lead, if you'll let us.”

With the big question finally out in the open, Lizzie felt the adrenaline draining out of her. Shaking her head, she took the folder from him and glanced through it. “So this was the big emergency project. I suppose you heard?”

“Yes, one of Catherine's connections alerted her to Juno Interactive's offer. We'd been expecting it for some time.”

“Catherine must be loving this,” she said drily.

“Actually,” Darcy replied, “she was the deciding vote in your favor.”

She blew out a breath and let her head fall against the back of her chair. “Well, that does it. Nothing in the world makes sense anymore.”

He chuckled, and she grinned back, and for a moment it felt like one of those old afternoons, finding spare half-hours in their schedules just to be together. Then she stood up, tucking the folder under her arm. “Thank you for the offer. I certainly have a lot to think about.”

Darcy got to his feet as well. “Yes, of course. Take as much time as you need.” He even shook her hand, brisk and businesslike, and almost made it out the door without looking back – but not quite. “One other thing, Lizzie...”

She watched his face, saw the moment of doubt flicker and fade. “Please know that I will always support you,” he said at last, “whatever your decision.”

“Thank you,” she said.


	6. Chapter 6

“Do you realize we're going to be 30 in less than two years?” Lizzie rested her wine glass on her stomach and tipped her head back against the carpet, arching her neck, to look at Charlotte upside down. “How bizarre is that?”

“Yes,” Charlotte said with a patient smile, “it turns out linear time is still a thing.”

She was leaning against the couch a few feet away, holding mug of mint tea on her sweatpants-clad knees. The living room of her apartment was cluttered with her laptop and the stacks of notebooks she'd been working on before Lizzie arrived four hours ago, bearing Chinese takeout and an urgent need for a heart-to-heart talk.

Now, close to midnight, the two women were nestled among heaps of cushions and pillows, with Charlotte's entire stockpile of wine and junk food spread out on the Ikea coffee table. An earlier plan for Charlotte to drive Lizzie home had been abandoned in favor of Lizzie spending the night on the couch (or right where she was on the floor, more likely) and driving herself and her hangover back to San Francisco before work the next morning.

“We're _adults_ , you know?” Lizzie wrinkled her brow at the ceiling. “We run our own companies. People look at us and seem to think we've got all our shit together. And yet here I am, lying in a pillow fort, freaking out about my job and my boyfriend and eating Lucky Charms straight out of the box.”

“You're also drinking alcohol, though. That makes all the difference.”

“Valid point.” Lizzie drained what was left in her glass, set it next to the cereal box on the table and rolled onto her stomach, the crocheted blanket she'd wrapped herself in tangling around her feet. “So you've got this all figured out, right?” she said with a nervous smile. “You know exactly what I'm supposed to do and are about to give me detailed instructions about my life choices?”

Charlotte snorted – equal parts affectionate and sarcastic, like any best friend worthy of the title. “Like you ever listened to me when I told you what to do.”

“Of course I listened to you! I mean, usually about three weeks too late, but that's got to count for something.”

There was a brief silence as Charlotte finished her tea and rolled the warm ceramic mug between her palms. “I don't know, Lizzie,” she said at last, gently. “I think the only person who knows the right answer to this one is you.”

“I was afraid you'd say that.” Lizzie buried her face in her arms. “In that case,” her muffled voice continued, “could you tell my head and my heart to sort things out and get on with it? I'm kind of on a deadline here.”

Charlotte leaned down to pet Lizzie's head, smoothing her tumbled red hair from her face. Then a thought struck her and she brightened. “Hang on a sec.” She got to her feet and went into her bedroom for a minute. When she came back she was holding a crumpled, tea-stained sheaf of papers. “Here,” she said, passing them over. “I had a feeling this would come in handy one day.”

Lizzie pushed herself upright and gazed in disbelief at the document: a draft copy of her business plan for Turning Page Productions. It was dated April 2013, before she'd even finished grad school, when her digital media company was barely more than hypothetical – an unexpected possibility just crazy enough to work. Notes and scribbles filled the margins: her own handwriting in faded pencil, Charlotte's comments in practical blue ink and Lydia's in sparkly purple, and Darcy's firm cursive in black fountain pen.

Re-reading those encouraging words from the people closest to her, Lizzie felt tears welling up in her eyes. “Oh my god. You kept this?”

Grinning, Charlotte pointed to the mission statement on the first page, circled in blue and marked with a smiley face. “Save the world, right? Change the culture.”

“Oh, Charlotte.” Lizzie scooted across the floor and wrapped her in a hug. “You're the most wonderful friend in the world and I love you.”

“Aww,” Charlotte laughed, and hugged her back. “I guess you're okay too.”

Lizzie tugged the blanket over both their legs and dropped her head to Charlotte's shoulder. “Looks like I've got a big weekend coming up,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read Lizzie's business plan [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/868124).


	7. Chapter 7

It had been a difficult night. This was often Darcy and Gigi's experience when their aunt Catherine threw one of her mandatory Friday cocktail receptions at the Hunsford mansion; and this time, on top of the tedious duties of networking and the refreshments that were gourmet almost to the point of being inedible, there was the uncertainty about Pemberley Digital's future putting everyone on edge. Darcy could feel it as he made his way from group to group in the overheated hall: whispered conversations among his employees that stopped short whenever he approached, anxious smiles from the stakeholders who supported his decision – and barely-masked resentment from the few who didn't.

It saddened him, more than anything else. It was a reminder of the imbalance that had crept into his family's company over the last few years. Despite all his efforts to set things right, he couldn't help feeling that he was to blame, that Pemberley's misdirection could have been avoided under someone else's guidance. And by now – Darcy checked his watch for the fifth time that hour – his best hope to turn the business around would be on a plane to New York, where one of his top competitors was trying to steal her away from him.

He was too tired to feel optimistic about any of it. The evening dragged by and he soldiered through (drinking slightly more wine than was proper, it was true, but it had to be done) while Catherine radiated superiority from her corner of the room and Gigi watched him constantly, flitting through the crowd like a startled bird.

Finally they reached the moment when Catherine's schemes were done for the night and her guests were herded abruptly out the door, fumbling with their coats. By ten o'clock the three of them were left sitting in the parlor, listening to the household staff clear away the wreckage in the next room. Darcy allowed his already-aching head to drop back against the sofa cushions; Gigi kicked off her shoes and curled into a ball of silent frustration in the opposite corner.

“Imbeciles,” Catherine muttered. She, of course, was sitting ramrod straight in an armchair, holding Annie-kins the dog in her lap. “Five years on the board of directors and they fail to see what's right in front of their faces. Mark my words,” she declared, spearing the air with her finger, “I will personally see to it that they are the first ones out the door when this acquisition goes through.”

“Merger,” Darcy mumbled, gazing at the ceiling.

“I beg your pardon?”

“It would be a merger with Lizzie's company,” he repeated in a firmer voice, “not an acquisition; and it is far from certain. I suppose it would be inconvenient for me to mention that these particular board members were favorites of yours not eight months ago.”

Catherine turned to glare at him so sharply that Annie-kins trembled and growled. “That is hardly the point, William. And sit up straight, if you please, we're not barbarians.”

He took a slow breath and pushed himself upright. The room swam gently before his eyes. “Well, it's late. Can you drive us back, Gigi, or should we send for the car?”

But his little sister was glaring at him too, her dark brows drawn together in a stubborn line. “I can't believe you didn't ask her,” she said, out of nowhere.

Darcy rested his elbows on his knees and massaged his temples with his fingertips. “I have made my offer.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” Gigi said. “The moment was right there, William, and you let her get away from you. Why didn't you propose to her?” When he didn't answer right away she leaned over to grab him by the arm, searching his face with wide blue eyes. “Mom and Dad made it work – our family, the company, everything. They were unstoppable together. You and Lizzie would be too, I know you would.”

It was nothing that hadn't been echoing in his head for most of the evening. “We can't be sure of that...”

She flung out her arms. “When have I ever been wrong about you guys! Name one time!”

“It might not be what she wants, Gigi. I can't force this on her.”

“But what if–- ” Then she closed her mouth with a sharp click, as if her thought were too absurd to be spoken aloud. “You love each other,” she said, more a demand than a question. “Don't you?”

“Yes. Very much.” Darcy lifted her hand from his sleeve and tugged at her fingers until she relented, slumping against him with her head on his shoulder. “Lizzie and I will figure something out,” he said. “I have waited this long. I can wait a little more.”

“Oh, for god's sake,” Catherine muttered, and started fussing with the dog in her lap as if it were the only other rational creature in the room. Annie-kins looked as though she quite agreed. “Are all your executive decisions to be surrounded by such tiresome sentimentality from here on out?”

Darcy smiled. “I certainly hope so.”

“One would think I'd be accustomed to it by now,” his aunt said, and found a way to sit even straighter. “Well, what's done is done, and we can only hope for the best. Liz is no fool, whatever else one may say about her.”

Gigi elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “Why Catherine,” he teased, “that was downright gregarious of you. Are you feeling unwell?”

Catherine scowled. “Don’t be ridiculous. I know a good deal when I see it. That’s all.”

“Of course.”

It was past eleven by the time they made it back to the city. Gigi offered to come home with him, to call Fitz over and order pizza and a movie to keep his mind off things; but he said he wanted to sleep – and yes, get more work done first, but only a little. He hugged her good night, promised to see her tomorrow and stood on the sidewalk watching the car glide toward her hotel at the bottom of the street. It was a cool, calm night, and the Bay was hazy and dark beyond the rooftops.

When the elevator doors opened to his apartment, Darcy found a lamp had been left on for him and the living room smelled like roses. A large bouquet stood on the counter, a dusky red variety he once mentioned he particularly liked because it was subtle and not too sweet; and next to it was a cream-colored envelope with his name written carefully across the front. Another thoughtful gift from Lizzie, apologizing to him for her imminent success. He shook his head and smiled as he crossed the room to admire the flowers, as she would want him to. Then he opened the envelope and went very still.

Inside was Lizzie's note on the faded scrap of paper he had clipped from his calendar last year. She had removed it from his wallet while his back was turned. He unfolded it and discovered she had crossed out “There’s a chance” with a thin stroke of blue ink and had written beneath it, simply, “Yes.”

Years later, it would linger in his mind: that moment just before he turned around and saw Lizzie standing behind him, more memorable even than her broad, confident smile and the beating of his heart as he threw his arms around her. _Pay close attention_ , a detached corner of his mind told him, the world standing still just as it did in the romance novels he claimed to have no patience for. _This is one of the best nights of your life._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Erica. <3

“Tears,” Lizzie declared. “He actually teared up for a second, and I'm telling you now so you can back me up when he denies it, because he will, because he's a hopeless dork.”

“I believe you,” Jane replied, laughing a warm sleepy laugh, “but he's not as hopeless as you are. Roses and secret love notes, really, Lizzie? How many hours did you hide in the living room waiting for him to come home?”

“That's not the point!” But Lizzie broke into a smile just thinking about it. She wrapped her thin robe more tightly around her and tipped over to lie on her side on the couch, bare legs tucked up against her chest, phone cradled to her ear. “It was pretty epic, though. Disney's got nothing on me.”

It was late in San Francisco, and beyond late in New York. Darcy had long since fallen asleep in the next room, happiness pushing him past the edge of exhaustion; but Lizzie's mind and heart were full to overflowing and she couldn't let the night go just yet – not until she'd called both her sisters and told them the news, time zones be damned. (Her sides still hurt from her conversation with Lydia, who'd nearly died laughing outside a bar on Sunset Boulevard. “I knew it,” she'd shouted, “I _knew_ it, oh my god I'm going to annoy the SHIT out of you guys!”)

Jane gave a contented sigh over the phone. Lizzie could picture her cuddled up in a chair in her apartment, in that quiet couple of hours before the early morning rush began. “Sorry for bailing on you, sis,” she said. “We'll come visit you and Bing soon, I promise.”

“It's totally fine. Oh, honey, I'm so happy for both of you! The next few days are going to be just wonderful.”

"Oh trust me, I know. I practically bought out Whole Foods' gourmet section yesterday – so much for William's health food habit. We're not leaving the apartment unless it's on fire.”

“Well, good,” Jane said. “In that case, I'll make sure to hide Bing's phone to keep him from interrupting. He's been wanting this so much, you know – all of us being a family. He and William have been talking about it for months.”

“I know.” Yawning, Lizzie stretched out her arm for a throw pillow and tucked it beneath her chin. “I had to figure some things out first.”

“When did you decide? About marriage and your career and everything?”

It was a question she would have to get used to for a while, after so many years of defiant singlehood – from her family, her friends, even from Darcy, who seemed unable to believe this was happening. ( _You're sure?_ he kept asking over and over, her hands clasped between his, _Are you sure?_ with a look of such baffled joy on his face that she could only kiss him and laugh, _Of course, of course I am!_ ) “It's hard to explain,” she said. “This might sound weird, but I think my mind's been made up ever since I saw the Pemberley House library.”

Jane couldn't hold back a giggle.

“No, no,” Lizzie laughed, “it's not just the big house in England – I mean, okay, the estate doesn't _hurt_. I just....” She watched the city lights twinkling beyond the windows as she searched for the words. “I remember standing there staring up at the bookshelves, and realizing that the things Pemberley represents are the same things that are important to me. That I was finally at a point where I could become a part of all that, even bring something new to it, without losing myself. Does that make any sense?”

“Yes,” said Jane softly, “I think it does.”

“I know running a company together isn't going to be easy. Pemberley Digital has a lot of soul-searching to do, and I have my own team to take care of.” Lizzie paused as nervous excitement bloomed again in her chest, radiated out to her fingertips. “But this is important. It's something worth protecting. And I think between the two of us, we can figure out how to do it.”

“I'm sure you will,” her sister said, and then she laughed again. “But that will have to wait. First you're going to have to deal with Mom.”

“Oh, god help us all.” Lizzie hid her grinning face in the pillow. “I was trying not to think about that.”

“All right, here's the plan,” Jane said. “I'm going to hang up the phone now, and you go back to William and stay in bed until at _least_ ten. Mom's been wanting to look at wedding invitations with me – I'll keep her busy with that over the weekend until you two are ready to tell her. What do you think?”

Lizzie sighed deeply and stretched herself out full length. She thought of closeness and warmth and sleep, of the lazy morning ahead and all the mornings after that. “I think you're a saint,” she said.

“Good night, little sister.”

“Best night ever, Jane.”  
  


* * *

  
The quiet morning hours were Caroline's favorite time of day at the Turning Page Productions office. Normally the place was a hive of gratingly cheerful creativity; but before 9am it was calm and relatively tidy, particularly on a Saturday like today. The main room was empty aside from herself seated at one of the work tables, and two video editors huddled in a far corner completing a project for Monday, dressed in jeans and hoodies. (Caroline was carefully put together, as always: tailored skirt, designer sweater, high heels.)

Sipping her coffee, she looked out over the office. It had been quite a good find on her part, one had to admit. Not as close to the Financial District as she would have liked, but with its tall windows and bare brick walls, it was upscale enough to suit her while still being cute and cozy enough for Lizzie. Caroline remembered the weeks of planning and negotiating she had pulled off to secure this place at a rate the company could afford. Just as she'd worked countless late nights to get their finances in order, and bring new partners on board, and slowly lay the groundwork for Lizzie's big meeting with Juno Interactive in New York.

A meeting that, according to Lizzie's poorly-concealed elation via text message earlier this morning, had irrevocably fallen through.

She straightened her shoulders and tapped a rhythm with her nails on the arm of the chair. This had always been part of the game; she'd played her hand as best she could. Dwelling on the situation would be a waste of time.

“I'm getting a bit tired of California lately.”

The unexpected voice shook Caroline out of her reverie. Olivia stood in the doorway of the office, a Ralph Lauren travel bag slung over one shoulder and a tall latte in her hand. “That ever happen to you?” she continued.

Caroline gave her a long, intent look. Olivia seemed tired after her third cross-country flight in five days; but even in jeans and a white button-down shirt, she was sleek and stylish, every detail in place. She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe and gazed back with her dark eyes and wry, inviting smile.

“She’s not here,” Caroline replied at last, her voice carefully neutral. She glanced away and toyed with the lid of her own coffee cup sitting on the table. “Trust me, you won’t change her mind.”

Olivia's smile widened. “I’m not here to talk to Lizzie,” she said. “I’m here to talk to you.”  
  


* * *

  
Lizzie's expression on Monday was priceless.

“You're _leaving?”_ She was slumped in her chair behind her desk, eyes round and mouth gaping. The dreamy oh-so-engaged look she'd been wearing all morning had been wiped clean off her face.

Caroline hid her enjoyment by rummaging idly through her oversized handbag, where she'd hidden away some important documents and items from her desk on her way in. “Please, Lizzie,” she sighed. “Have some dignity.” She plucked out her phone and re-read the latest email from Olivia, detailing Caroline's first-class flight to New York later that day.

“But … but you’ve been with us for years!”

“Which is a more than adequate timeframe to make the return on my investment and exit the company. Surely you have some idea of how corporate finance works by now.” The second half of Olivia's email contained an impressive list of perks that Caroline could expect at her new job with Juno Interactive. In spite of herself, she beamed at Lizzie and bounced on her toes with excitement. “My own office with a view of Manhattan! Can you imagine! I’m going to need all new clothes.”

Lizzie was speechless, but Caroline had turned back to her phone and wouldn't have listened anyway. She closed her inbox and glanced at the time. “Well, I must be going,” she said. “My plane leaves in a few hours and I need to finish packing. I'll be sure to give Bing and Jane your regards – _always_ so lovely to see them. You really should visit more often.” With that, she wiggled her fingers goodbye and breezed out of the office.

It took several stunned seconds for Lizzie to jump up from her chair and scoot around her desk, and all her self-control not to run after her, clattering in high heels across the workspace with all her employees watching. She finally reached the hallway and shut the door. “Caroline, wait.”

At first it seemed she wouldn't stop, but as she reached the stairs she hesitated. Lizzie hurried to catch up. “Look, if you're worried about working with William, I promise...”

“Lizzie.” Caroline turned around, and her face stopped Lizzie in her tracks. For a rare moment she was completely unmasked, her eyes bright and sharp. “Do you honestly think I invested in Turning Page Productions to bask in the glow of your little love story with Darcy? Maybe play the doting aunt to your inevitable 2.5 adorable children?”

“No, of course not,” Lizzie faltered. “I just thought...”

“I joined your enterprise for me,” she said slowly. “ _My_ ambitions, _my_ future. I was determined to win, and I did.” She moved closer, a sly smile on her lips. “And I don’t plan on stopping.”

Lizzie, so eager to stop her just a moment ago, now found herself fighting the urge to take a step back. “Now wait just a minute...”

Caroline stopped within arm's reach, held out her right hand and gazed steadily at Lizzie until she took it. Her fingers were cool and perfectly manicured, and gripped hard. “Unofficially, it has been a genuine pleasure working with you,” she said, and slid her hand away. “Officially? I hope you like being in second place.”

As Caroline turned and strolled off, Lizzie felt her cheeks going red – first with shock, and then with a burst of defiance and an almost irresistable urge to laugh. She put her hands on her hips and called down the hallway after her. “You know what, _bring it_ , Caroline.”

“Oh, Elizabeth,” said Caroline, and paused on the top step to grin over her shoulder, tossing her long hair down her back. “I will.”  
  


* * *

  
The first headlines hit the industry publications early that afternoon: “Surprise Merger for Pemberley Digital? Turning Page Productions Rumored to Close Deal with New-Media Giant.”

It didn't take long for a leading gossip columnist to pounce on the next question. “Lizzie Bennet Engaged To William Darcy??” the blog post squealed; “HOLY SHIT WHEN!” Lizzie's thousands of fans tweeted. “OMG I AM CRYING RN :DDD! DETAILS PLZ!!! #DizzieDay2016!!!”

A couple of hours later, she finally responded – “@thelizziebennet: Okay, okay, fine,” with a link to a coyly-cropped Instagram picture. A glimpse of Darcy's smile and his crooked bow tie, Lizzie's laughing eyes peeking out from behind his shoulder, her left hand squeezing his arm. A newly-set heirloom engagement ring on her finger.

The internet lost its damn mind.  
  


* * *

  
_So, first things first: no, Mother, William and I have not eloped, as tempting as that idea increasingly is. We're just hiding out in Napa Valley for a few days. No I'm not going to tell you exactly where, and no I do not need any bridal catalogues to look at. And NO, we're not going to have a massive double wedding with Bing and Jane, are you nuts?!_

_Dad, stop laughing and tell her I said no. I'm serious._

_It could actually be a year or so before we make it official. The merger's going to take a lot of negotiating and we want to get that out of the way first. We were hoping to keep all of this under wraps for a while longer but_ some devious person _, we simply_ cannot imagine whom _, leaked it to the press. So we're going to be pretty busy staying on top of things._

_Other than that, everything's wonderful. Like, stupidly wonderful. I need to crunch the numbers on this, but I think I might be the happiest woman in the world. (Yes, even happier than you, Jane.) I keep laughing in public for no apparent reason. It’s becoming a problem._

_My fiancé is giving me puppy-dog eyes so I’d better wrap this up. (AREN’T WE LIKE TOTES ADORBS, LYDIA? WE’RE GONNA MAKE OUT IN A SECOND.) William sends you all the love in the world that he can spare from me. You are all invited up to Aspen for Christmas._

_Love,_   
_Lizzie_

 

THE END


End file.
